Broken World (Book 3): Mad World (19 page)

20
Axl

VIVIAN’S ASLEEP, SO I SLIDE OUTTA BED and grab my pants. My mind won’t shut off, and I can’t just lay here. I got too much to do.

When I step into the hall, Jon is comin’ outta Hadley’s room. He freezes when he sees me like he’s been caught doin’ something wrong.

“Relax,” I mutter. “I ain’t your mama.”

He follows me to the livin’ room. I wanna tell him to leave me the hell alone—I still don’t like the bastard—but I gotta cool it. I don’t wanna be a hothead like Angus. That shit’s gettin’ old.

“You don’t sleep?” he asks.

I slouch into one of them oversized chairs and shrug. “Too busy thinkin’.”

“There’s a lot to think about these days.” He sits on the couch and leans forward. “This about that rich guy?” I nod. “He’s bad news. He cornered me earlier, started asking me all kinds of questions about the Monte Carlo. Hinting around about me flying him out of here.”

I sit up straighter. “What’d you say?”

Jon shrugs and runs his hand across his eyes. He’s got bags under ‘em. “I told him he could hitchhike. If I go back there, it will be to blow the whole damn place to pieces.”

“Ain’t a bad idea,” I mutter.

I lean back and stare at the ceiling. There I go again, puckerin’ my lips. Mitchell’s worryin’ me, though. Winston and me took care of the weapons—we wanted to be sure Mitchell couldn’t get his hands on ‘em—but the cars are another thing. Angus has the keys to the Nissan and the Cadillac, but Nathan’s got the keys to the other car. He won’t give them up. Don’t want Angus to have all the power. Not that I blame him. But I don’t think he gets what a little weasel Mitchell can be. I don’t trust him.

“We gotta amp up security,” I mutter.

“What?”

I jump to my feet. “We can’t afford to have him steal one of them cars. If something happens and we gotta get outta here, we’ll be screwed. We got over twenty people now.”

“We’re going to be in screwed either way, then,” Jon says. I narrow my eyes at him, and he sits back. “I mean, we have two eight-passenger vehicles and one five-passenger car? That’s not going to cut it with twenty-five people.”

“We got the Sam’s truck.”

Jon slowly nods. “Yeah. It would be nice if it were stocked and ready to go. Just in case.”

He’s got a point, but I ain’t gonna tell him. “In case of what?” I ask. I think they call that playin’ devil’s advocate. Don’t know exactly what it means, but I heard it before.

“Anything could happen. Haven’t we learned that? Someone else who bought a condo could suddenly show up, and maybe they don’t want to play nice. The air filtration system could break. We could be attacked. Mitchell could decide he doesn’t want to live anymore, and he could throw the doors open and let everything on the surface in. We should have some kind of emergency plan in place.”

“Shit.”

I go back to pacin’, runnin’ my hand through my hair and not even carin’ that my lips are puckered again. Jon’s right. Why the hell didn’t I think of this before? What would we do if we had to get outta here real fast? Nobody would have a clue what to do. We’d be dead.

“We gotta get some people together.” I head for the door, cursin’ myself for my own stupidity.

Jon jumps up. “Now? It’s two o’clock in the morning!”

“Don’t give a damn. We shoulda done this right away. We were so happy to be safe that nobody even stopped to think how trapped we are down here.”

He runs after me. “Who are you going to get?”

I stop. Shit. Here’s the tough part: do I get Angus? He’s resourceful, but he ain’t exactly thrilled to be with these people. Still, if I don’t get him, it could make things a hell of a lot more difficult. For all of us. He hates not bein’ in the loop. Especially now that he’s on this crazy power trip.

“We’ll start with Winston.”

***

“Dammit.” Winston looks over his shoulder toward the bedrooms. “We should have thought of this already,” he says, quieter this time.

“No shit,” I mutter.

“So what are you thinking? Get a group together to discuss it?”

I look at Jon. I wish he weren’t here. Winston I can trust, but I don’t know Jon. Talkin’ ‘bout my problems with Angus ‘round him don’t seem right.

“We do that, and I’m gonna hafta bring Angus in.”

Winston nods, but he don’t blink, like he knew I was gonna say it. “And you don’t want to.” It ain’t a question. He knows that’s why I came here in the middle of the night.

“I think it would make things tough.”

“How about we talk it out first? Then bring him in so he thinks he’s involved.”

“But we already got all the plans made,” I say. Winston’s a genius. “That sounds ‘bout right.”

“So what were you thinking?”

I swipe my hand through my hair and look over at Jon. He ain’t said a word. “Jon suggested we load some supplies in the Sam’s truck. Have it ready in case we gotta get out fast.”

“Sounds reasonable, but it’s not going to be easy. There are more zombies up there than ever.”

“I could fly the helicopter out, draw them away.”

I pucker my lips. Dammit. Wish I could stop doin’ that. “That’s a thought.”

“Then what?” Winston says. “Do we want to leave a fully-stocked truck out there where someone could just take it and leave?”

“We gotta hide the key,” I say. “Angus’ll have to give it up if we do this.”

Winston rubs the back of his neck. He looks at me like he ain’t sure I can handle it. “Will he?”

“He will,” I say. “I’ll make him.”

Winston gets up and stretches. He looks as tired as Jon. As tired as I feel. “That means we’re going to have to drag all that stuff back up the stairs.”

I exhale and lean back, starin’ at the ceiling. “Damn.”

***

“We gotta do it now,” I say firmly.

Angus don’t look thrilled, but we managed to make him think he was in on the plannin’. “Yeah, before that prick gets wind of it,” he grunts. He’s drinkin’. He’s been drinkin’ a lot lately. Reminds me of our mom. Ain’t a pleasant thought.

“This is going to suck,” Nathan says.

“It’ll go faster if we get every person we can.” Winston scratches at his beard and looks around the room. “And we’re going to need someone watching Mitchell’s room to make sure he doesn’t come out. We need to get this done, and fast.”

“I’ll watch the bastard,” Brad says.

Of course he’d offer. That asshole never wants to put himself in danger. He’s the prick who left us in Boulder City when we got the fuel truck. He was pissed enough that we made him go, but soon as we had that truck, he refused to go further. Refused to put himself in harm’s way. Asshole.

“Fine,” I mutter, headin’ toward the stairs. “Let’s get Al up and that other teenager—”

“Jhett,” Nathan calls after me.

“Whatever. They can help.”

Angus is right on my heels. “You gonna wake Blondie up?”

“No,” I snap.

“Don’t gotta bite my head off,” he growls. “I ain’t the asshole that’s makin’ us do this.”

I smash my lips together to keep from sayin’ something I’ll regret. Like he would be the asshole doin’ this if it weren’t for me. He’d be right there with them bastards at the Monte Carlo. I hate to admit it, but truth is, I can see it happenin’. I can see Angus takin’ out all that rage on them women. Makes me wanna hurl.

Angus grabs my arm and turns me to face him. “That what this is ‘bout?” he growls.

I shake his arm off. “Don’t know what you mean.”

“This attitude you got toward me. It’s about the Monte Carlo, ain’t it?”

I look over my shoulder. We don’t got time for this shit. Not now. I wanna get movin’. Havin’ a blowout with Angus right now is a waste of time.

“We don’t got time—.”

“No,” Angus says, steppin’ closer. That little vein is all popped out on his forehead, and his face is as red as a tomato. “We’re gonna talk ‘bout this.” He puckers his lips and spits, then wipes his mouth real slow, like he’s tryin’ to decide what to say. “That what you think ‘bout me? That I’d be there with them pervs if it weren’t for you?”

My jaw tightens, and I take a step back. “You looked pretty excited to see them pictures when we was there.”

Angus spits again. “Pictures is one thing. I ain’t a rapist.”

I clench my jaw tighter. Wish I could believe him. “If you say so.”

Angus puckers his lips so much that they’re like a tiny circle on his face. He looks like he’s gonna hit me. There’s something else in his eyes, too. Hurt? No. Angus don’t get hurt.

“We got work to do,” he says, spittin’ at my feet again.

***

Sweat drips down my back and my hand is killin’ me, but I keep movin’. The desert air ain’t hot, but we’ve been carryin’ boxes up the stairs and out to the truck for over an hour, so I’m sweatin’ anyway.

“We only have about ten more minutes!” Winston calls, jerkin’ his head toward the helicopter.

Jon’s flyin’ in circles close to the ground ‘bout a hundred yards out. Most of the zombies are followin’ him ‘round, goin’ crazy tryin’ to get him. But there ain’t much fuel, so we gotta hurry.

“Incoming!” Nathan yells.

I drop the box of canned soup I’m holdin’ and spin ‘round. One of the bastards must’ve gotten bored with the helicopter or noticed we was out here. He’s comin’ ‘round the front of the truck. Practically runnin’. I jog toward him with my knife raised and swing it at his skull. He swipes at me, but he’s too slow. My blade sinks into the side of his head before he can get me, and he goes down.

“I think we’d better get the truck locked up!” Al yells, pointin’ behind me.

The helicopter swoops ‘round, movin’ back toward the fence. He must be gettin’ low.

I grab the box off the ground and grunt when pain shoots through my hand. I ignore it and run for the truck, shovin’ it toward the back. “Let’s get outta here!”

My hand throbs, much as I don’t wanna admit it. Dammit. I wish I hadn’t punched that damn wall.

“You okay?” Joshua asks as we run toward the fence.

“Nope, but there ain’t nothin’ I can do ‘bout it.”

“You can take it easy.”

“Ain’t no such thing no more.”

Angus is the last one through, and he’s got the keys in his hands. He throws the padlock back on the gate after Winston shuts it. Winston’s eyes follow the keys when Angus stuffs them back in his pocket. I gotta get Angus to give me the key, and it ain’t gonna be easy after our talk.

Jon lands the helicopter and everybody heads toward the shelter, but I grab Angus and pull him back. “We gotta talk.”

“‘Bout what? How this is a dumbass idea and we should just kick the bastard out.” He spits again, and it comes awfully close to landin’ on my shoe. Guess he ain’t over being pissed.

“This whole thing ain’t just ‘bout Mitchell. This is ‘bout bein’ prepared. Anything can happen.”

Angus puckers his lips and grunts.

“I need the key to the truck, Angus.”

The vein on his forehead pulses. “Why’s that?”

“We gotta put it where we can get it fast. In case we gotta make a run for it.”

Angus spits again, and this time it does land on my shoe. I curse and take a step back. He don’t look sorry. In fact, he looks kinda happy ‘bout it.

“Where’s that exactly? In Winston’s pocket?”

“No, you idiot. We gotta hide it somewhere. Up here, probably. Someplace we can grab it as we run out.”

He puckers his lips again, but he nods. “What’re you gonna do, hide it under a rock?”

I scan the area, but there ain’t much ‘round. “We’re gonna hafta bury it. Close to the fence would be best.”

“Can’t just bury a key, it’d get lost,” Angus says, diggin’ in his pocket. He pulls out his can of dip and dumps it out, swearin’ when he does it. “Don’t got much left, you better be grateful.”

He sticks the key inside. When the lid’s back on, he practically throws it at me. It hits my chest and almost falls to the ground, but I manage to catch it. I just stand there, starin’ at it. I ain’t never seen Angus do something so selfless. Most people wouldn’t think much of it, but I know my brother. That’s a big sacrifice for him.

“Thanks,” I mumble, then head toward the fence. “Next to the gate would be best.”

He follows me, and the zombies start goin’ nuts. I get down and dig in the sand, right next to the fence post. It’ll be an easy place to find.

“Watch yourself,” Angus says, jabbin’ his knife through the fence when a zombie reaches for me.

When the bastard falls, a big chunk of rotten flesh is ripped of his hand by the metal links. It falls right next to the hole I’m diggin’, and I stop long enough to toss it away. It smells bad enough out here.

When I’m done, I get up and brush the sand off my jeans. “Let’s get back inside. It smells like shit out here.”

Angus just nods.

We almost bump into Brad when we get to the bottom of the stairs. He’s standin’ next to the control room, starin’ at the monitor over Al’s shoulder.